


special affair

by tytracki



Series: scenarios [5]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Business, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Rough Sex, implied happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 22:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18157910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tytracki/pseuds/tytracki
Summary: at a very young age you learned that wealthiness stayed alive by deals and contracts, and that’s exactly what your marriage with kim doyoung is. a deal.





	special affair

love is not real. that’s the thought that crosses your mind as you stand alone in the illuminated ball room, the champagne glass on your left hand almost empty.

another well dressed couple passes by you and you’re once again doing what you do best, observe. the man is too old and the girl too beautiful. you wonder what’s more expensive, the watch on his wrist or the diamond ring on her finger.

a blink of your eyes and you are wondering if their relationship is as fake as yours. another blink and you are looking away, downing the rest of champagne that was left as if the slightly bitter taste would make the unpleasant thought leave your mind.

this is not an unusual scene. in all honesty it’s probably the most common on in your life. an expensive party, with golden lights and golden jewelry, a dress too tight and too expensive and a fake smile painting your lips better than the red lipstick you’re wearing.

for as long as you can remember love has been a performance, not something you would daydream and talk to your girlfriends about, but something you had to fake. at a very young age you learned that wealthiness stayed alive by deals and contracts, and that’s exactly what your marriage with kim doyoung is.

you’re not unhappy, neither do you hate if, doyoung has made sure that every detail, from the room you two don’t share to every piece of jewelry on your vanity, makes you comfortable about the deal you have.

it’s very simple actually, like you are a oscar winner actress performing on a movie where you have to be the perfect image of a wife, accompanying your rich ceo husband on every event and pretending you’re so deeply in love with him that nothing else matters, not even the million and billions of dollars you two are worth together.

the plot twist of the movie is that after the party your husband doesn’t seem to remember that you exist, too busy with his millionaire deals and the future of his company. what the gossip magazines don’t show is that the only times doyoung kisses you is when there’s a camera around. the perfect act.

you’re not unhappy, not at all. but sometimes the house feels too big and the expensive ring on your finger feels too heavy.

you take a deep breath, pondering if you should get another drink since there’s not much for you to do here. the jazz music that the band is playing is boring, a perfect match for the whole atmosphere of the party. your eyes end up searching for doyoung only to find him still talking to the other men that probably don’t have anything better to do than talk about money and expensive cars.

as if knowing you’re looking at him, doyoung’s eyes find yours and when you don’t look away he raises one eyebrow. you watch as he excuses himself from the group of men and makes his way towards you.

it’s funny almost, how his presence still affects you, to the point that watching him get closer makes your heart speed up just a little bit. your face on the other hand is the perfect image of natural, ready to welcome him when he finally stops right by your side. the smile that takes over your face almost a defense mechanism.

“is there something wrong?” is the question that comes out of his mouth and for a moment you’re fooled that he is actually concerned.

“not at all, my love.” if he senses the mockery fake tone of your voice he doesn’t let it show “why do you ask?”

the small smile that takes over his lips is almost as fake as yours. “you seem a bit tired, that’s all.” you hate the formality of his voice. “perhaps we should be heading home.”

you just nod, letting him hold your hand as he guides you outside the ballroom. you do your best to smile at the people that pass you as you bid your goodbyes. the world around you is spinning just the tiniest bit, not drunk but definitely tipsy and doyoung must notice if the way he moves to hold you by the waist is any indication.

the wait for the car is almost suffocating, he doesn’t let go of your waist but still doesn’t speak a word to you. too intimate and not at all at the same time. you decide to close your eyes, the cold air making you shiver and you wish you were in your bedroom already, sleeping peacefully.

your eyes open again when you hear the sound of the mercedes arriving, doyoung opening the door so you can enter, and then shutting the door close.

you let your eyes fall close again, head pressing against the car window while doyoung drives. you enjoy the quiet beat of the song playing on the radio until he turns it off suddenly.

“why did you drink so much?” he asks, voice stern and it surprises you but you don’t let it show, keeping your eyes closed.

“i didn’t. and why do you care? you’re not my father.” pettiness.

“well, you sure are behaving like a child right now.” he sounds angry and you wonder if he has a had a little too much to drink too. it’s not like him to pick fights, he usually doesn’t even bothers keeping up a conversation after two sentences. it only makes you want to press further on it.

“and you’re being very annoying.” you know it’s childish and it only makes what he said more true but you don’t care.

you decide to open your eyes, only to see the look on his face. it’s a mixture of a lot of things. anger, tiredness, like he can’t believe you’re doing this right now.

the rest of drive is silent, the words you want to say stuck in the tip of your tongue. his fingers keep tapping the wheel and it makes you impatient.

when he parks inside your garage you get out of the car, slamming the door behind you just to make a scene for no reason. you’re not sure what you’re trying to achieve here, maybe you want him to get as angry as you are. want him to show at least some emotion, show that he’s affected as much as you are.

it works because just as you get inside the house he grabs you by the arm, stopping you from going up the stairs and into your room. “what has gotten into you today?” is what he says, voice low as if to not disturb the quiet house.

“what? can’t i get tired of playing pretend once in a while? not everyone is as emotionless as you are.” your voice drips with poison, aimed to hurt him for no specific reason. the slight look of hurt that crosses his face makes you feel proud and awful at the same time.

“i have told you before that if you do not wish to come to a party with me all you have to do is say so.” he says and you roll your eyes, this is not how it works and he knows it very well.

“we have a contract, doyoung. you may not remember that i exist but if there’s one thing i can’t forget is that i have a role that i have to play.” you spit the words out on his face “and all i have as a reminder is this giant ring on my finger.”

he’s gapes at you for only a moment, not letting you see himself as weak for longer than that. “you have as much of a say in this contract as i have, if you want to-“

“oh please, you have no idea what i want, kim doyoung.” you whisper, voice angry and ready to explode. you hate that even now he looks collected, like none of this is affecting him.

“then tell me. what do you want?” he’s so close you feel overwhelmed by his cologne.

“i want you to show me you feel something.” you are not sure what you mean by that but maybe deep down you do know.

maybe deep down you wanted him to press his lips to yours like he does, with so much force that he has to grip your hips to keep you balanced. maybe you knew this is what would happen but you’re still left surprised.

it takes you a moment to reciprocate it but when you do he kisses you like a mad man, like he has been starving for this for ages. he kisses you like he means it for the first time since you said i do.

it’s so intense that you think this isn’t the doyoung you know. his lips move against yours slowly but with a force that makes you get out of breath in no time.

“is this what you wanted?” he asks, forehead pressing against yours and hands gripping your hips.

“no.” you have the nerve to say, eyes staring right into his almost in a challenge. “i want more.”

“i know you can do better than that, _____.” his voice is teasing.

you take a moment to take in the look on his face. eyes staring at you so deeply you’re afraid he can see right through you. his lips are slightly red from your lipstick and he looks ready to eat you alive.

“i want you to fuck me so hard that i forget this isn’t real.” saying it out loud makes you feel so confident that when he smirks you kiss it right off his face.

the journey to his room is all messy kisses and hands moving around. he scatters kisses all over your exposed neck, hands gripping your ass tight. you get lost for a second in the feel of it, imagining what he will do to you.

he was never someone who left a lot for the imagination. his stoic behavior never giving away anything but you liked to imagine that he would be as dominating as he was in his business.

you’re interrupted from your thoughts when he pushes you down the bed, leaving you there as he undoes his tie. you sit up and gently push his hand away, doing it for him. you feel his eyes glued to you as you unbutton his shirt, there’s and strange intensity in the air and the small feeling of inadequacy sits on the bottom of your heart. this feels too intimate, something you shouldn’t be doing with a man that barely looks you in the eye.

the feeling is forgotten when you finish unbuttoning his shirt and one of his hands come to your chin, making you lift your head to look at him. you wonder how you look, with your swollen and red lips that are probably smeared by now. he kisses you too softly that it feels out of place.

“you’re so hot.” he says, a thumb rubbing your cheek and then pressing at your bottom lip. you know what he wants you to do but you want to tease a little, get him mad just a bit.

he press his thumb down a little harder, getting you to open your lips and just then you move your tongue to lick it slowly before sucking it into your mouth. his eyes grow darker at the view and you do your best to please him, swirling your tongue around.

one of his hands move to your neck, running it down to the strap of your dress and then the other. you shiver when it falls to your wait, breasts coming in full view and nipples hardening. he must’ve been surprised that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath it because it takes a minute before his next move.

you whine a little around his finger when his hand comes in contact with your chest. what a scene it must be, you with your fallen dress and mouth sucking on his finger while doyoung massages your breasts.

“are you going to be a good girl and suck me off, huh?” he asks and you just nod. his takes his finger out of your mouth, moving his hand to lay on your cheek. it’s filthy how you can feel your saliva still on it, even more when he slaps you gently. “come on, if you want my cock in your mouth you have to say it.”

it’s embarrassing how his words are making you wet, how you look at him with eyes pleading and do exactly what he wants you to. “please,” your cheeks turning pink only makes him want it more “i want you to fuck my mouth.”

he hums, pleased and you watch as he undoes his belt, slowly unzipping his pant as if he’s the one teasing you now. you get up, unzipping your own dress and letting it fall on the floor, taking your heels alongs the way before you’re kneeling in front of him. he discards himself of his shirt, chest bare and you have the urge to run your nails on it, scratch him, mark him.

his hand moves to your chin again as he pushes his pants along with his underwear down. you lick your lips when his hard cock comes into view, him stroking it lazily before running the tip on your wet lips.

you open your mouth when he tells you too, tongue out and welcoming.

he pushes it in slowly letting you get used to the feeling. you like it, the weight of his cock on your tongue and his eyes staring at your lips like there’s nothing he would rather see right now.

when his eyes meet yours, all glazed he starts thrusting. you enjoy the pace of it, he starts slowly and builds it up to the point you have to grab at his thigh for balance. the grip he has in your hair makes you moan around it and it only serves to press him on. he goes so deep and so fast and it has been so long since you’ve done this that you gag a little around his dick, drool coming down your chin and eyes wet with tears.

he seems to enjoy the view but still slows down the pace, the hand that was on your hair moving to your cheek, rubbing gentle circles on it. “your mouth feels so good, baby. i wish i could fuck your throat raw until you had my come filling up your mouth.”

a wave of arousal hits you and you try to ease it by rubbing your thighs together. he laughs a little at the view. “you would like that wouldn’t you?” he asks, taking your dick of your mouth with a wet sound and starts finishing undressing. “but you wanted me to fuck you, remember? so i have to do just that.” he helps you get up from where you are kneeling on the floor, your knees red and sore from the carpet.

he starts kissing you again and your eyes close at the sensation of getting attention again. you like the way his lips move against yours, like it’s not the first time you have done this and he knows exactly how to rile you up. his hands massage it’s way down to your hip bone and he settles it on the sides of your panties, as if asking for permission to take it off. when you wiggle your hips a little he hooks a finger around the waistband and brings it down your legs with a little help from you.

when you’re left bare in front of him he moves away from you and positions himself on the bed, lap inviting for you to take a seat. “come on, baby. you want it so much that i’m gonna let you work for it.”

his eyes don’t leave you as you get on the bed and move until you’re on his lap, sitting on his stomach. he can feel your wetness just above his belly button and when your ass presses on his dick he lets out a hiss, hands gripping your hips strongly. “it’s all yours, angel.” he says and then you’re sinking down on his length, slowly because it has been a while and even if his size is not out of this world it still serves to stretch you nicely.

you enjoy the feeling of being full when you’re fully seated on him, hands coming to rest at his chest for leverage. he lets out a sigh when when you move for the first time, coming down slowly as if to test the waters.

you set up a pace that you manage, moaning when you get just the right spot and throwing your head back at the sensation. his hands move from your hips to your breasts and he massages them, pinching your nipples to get a reaction out of you.

he seems to find your pace not enough, if the way he starts bucking his hips up is anything to go by. you gasp when he moves a little too harshly and he decides to fake full action, gripping your ass and moving you up and down to his liking.

“you’re such a little brat, aren’t you?” he says, his cock pushing against the place that makes you see stars repeatedly. “throwing all that fit just to get what you want, huh? all that to get a cock inside of your tight little cunt.”

it’s suddenly too much and your arms aren’t enough to hold you up anymore. you fall down on his chest, face hiding in the crook of his neck as a sob comes out of your lips. “yes, please, please. i want to come so bad, please.” he’s pounding into you so fast that you feel like a doll in his arm.

“then come, baby. no one is stopping you.” just as he says it one of his hand comes in contact with your ass in a slap, it’s not so hard that you think it’ll leave a bruise but it’s enough to get you arching your back and moaning close to his ears.

your orgasm hits you so hard that you have to bite his neck, walls clenching around his length repeatedly as he slaps you again.

he starts fucking into you faster, chasing his own orgasm and groaning when it finally hits him. his nails press crescents against your ass as he rides it out.

when he removes his dick from inside of you, you fall out from his lap and into the bed. you watch as he gets up from the bed, getting a pair of underwear on his way to the bathroom.

you decide to close of your eyes, body feeling heavy and you know you’ll fall asleep at any moment. something comes in contact with the inside of your thigh and you open your eyes to find doyoung cleaning you up.

“feeling okay?” he asks when he finishes it up, throwing the towel somewhere in the room and laying on the bed next to you.

you hum, smiling lazily at him. “just sleepy.” you reply and he moves to press a small kiss on your lips. it makes your heart flutter and you let yourself fall asleep in his arms. let yourself fall to the lie this whole thing is.

—-

your body feels sore when you wake up and the arm draped around your waist feels heavy and alien. you open your eyes to see doyoung’s face close to yours and as if sensing you’re looking at him he wakes up slowly too.

“good morning, _____.” he says voice groggy and eyes opening to look at you. his hand stays at your waist, and you have the impression that he’s trying to bring you closer. you suddenly feel self conscious that you’re naked underneath the blanket.

“morning.” you say, your own voice sounding raspy.

it stays silent for a couple minutes, the sun invading your room just a little by the small opening on the blinders. there’s a peace in the room that you don’t quite feel. doyoung’s eyes stare at your face, like he’s analyzing it and you want to tell him to stop.

his finger touches the tip of your nose and you feel something at the pit of your stomach. you want it to go away. “i never notice you had a mole here.” he says.

you try to bite off your words, you really try. “you only notice things when you pay attention.” is what you say and there it is again, the wave of hurt that crosses his eyes and leaves just as quickly.

“listen, i’m sorry, _____.” he starts and you are already annoyed, this is not what you want. “but let’s not do this right now, okay? can’t we just enjoy-“

you move abruptly, getting out of the bed and he lets out an unpleased noise that is unlike him. “let’s never do it, what about that?” you don’t even mind that you’re naked right now, don’t mind that his eyes are probably roaming around your body. all you focus on is leaving him room as you gather your clothes on the floor.

he lets you go without saying anything else.

___

nothing changes. you live your days like the perfect and boring housewife the contract wants you to be.

you eat breakfast alone, walk the dog and water the plants. have lunch by yourself and read a some pages of a book. you like it like this, like the silence of the house even if you know there are other people around it. you like that there’s no one to stop you when you move to get your fifth bonbon of the day, savoring the way it tastes like sweet and guilty.

you like the way there’s no one to judge you when you pick a gossip magazine and read the whole thing. you find out about the latest pregnancy and a cheating scandal, wondering if the day you and doyoung cover the front page will be because of an ugly divorce or finally the baby that everyone is waiting for. there’s a pic of the two of you on the events page, a fake smile on your faces and the most expensive pair of earrings you wore shining. you fight the urge to rip the page off.

by the end of the day you have learned a flan recipe and that monday won’t be a very good for your zodiac sign.

you don’t see doyoung for a week, and then two and you’re starting to think it will be a whole month before you have to face him.

there’s nothing new or weird about that, of course, but your mind seems to think so because you end up thinking about him a lot these days. the ring on your finger feels heavier these days.

comes the weekend you get a text from doyoung that doesn’t surprise you. you blink at the words on your phone once, think about how it sounds like a doctor confirming an appointment, blink again and shut the phone down.

Event tonight at 8PM. Please be ready at least half an hour before, a car will come to pick us up.

at 6PM you start getting ready. when you and doyoung started your deal, going to events together so people would get used to your relationship before the marriage, you would always make sure you looked your best. you would spend hours and dollars on saloons, getting your hair and makeup done so that in all the pictures the paparazzi took you look perfect.

now, with the black long dress you are wearing, you ponder which of the expensive jewelry you own will be the subtlest one. for makeup you decide on light traces of an eyeliner and the red lipstick you are known for.

at 7PM you know doyoung is already downstairs waiting for you, probably sitting on the couch with his armani suit and eyes focused on his phone.

at 7:30, you walk down the stairs and his eyes move to you. he doesn’t say a word, you didn’t expect him to, just gets up from the couch and leads you to the mercedes outside.

the only words you say for the entirety of the ride are goodnight to the driver. doyoung stays focused on his phone while you choose to watch the city move through the car window, the sky looking like fire from the sunset.

your thoughts start on the bonbon you had that afternoon, wishing you had brought some with you. they are followed by the small feeling that you didn’t really want to be here and you wonder what your life would be like if you hadn’t agreed with this deal, if you hadn’t been born in this reality. you’ve thought about this before, have fantasied about this enough that you know it ends with an ugly heartache.

you wonder if you would find love then, if you would believe in the first place. your minds take a radical turn and you’re invaded with the possibility of meeting doyoung in other circumstances. would he be different, would he be able to fall in love with you. you shift in your seat suddenly, forcing your mind to go blank as you focus on the song that’s playing on the radio.

as if your mind is playing tricks with you, you feel doyoung’s hand to touch yours where it’s laying on the leather seat. you blink at the feeling of his fingers lingering for a second and then you are moving your hand to your lap. your eyes stay glued to the window and his to the phone as if nothing happened.

___

the party is as boring and golden as any other. the champagne tastes the same but you still down two glasses, the slightly bitter taste not phasing you. the only difference this time is that doyoung stays by your side, making small talk about the weather and business because it wouldn’t be too good for a couple that is supposed to be in love to stay quiet.

you think to yourself that you are a very good actress, smiling at his words and body language relaxed so that no one can even doubt the authenticity of this relationship. he is just as good, eyes not leaving yours while he talks.

you maintain your composure when someone approaches, a man, that looks as rich as he is old, that makes doyoung’s posture go rigid and his arm to go around your waist almost in possessiveness, almost in affection.

“hello, mr. sooman.” doyoung says as he shakes hands with him “this is my wife, _______.”

you’ve hear that name before, on a magazine probably. he’s the owner of one of the biggest companies and has a huge influence on the market. you figure doyoung wants to impress him quickly so you let him kiss your hand, not showing a sign of being bothered by the smell of liquor that exhales from him.

“oh, ______! of course i have heard about you.” his words are slurred and one of your brows raised at his words.

“oh?” is all you manage to say, seeking for doyoung’s eyes and they look unfazed at the same time they look focused.

“you’re all these businessmen can talk about.” he explains and doyoung shifts next to you. the song changes to a jazz one. “the most beautiful girl in all these events, doyoung here sure got lucky.”

doyoung laughs and it’s so forced that you are thankful the old man is probably too drunk to notice. “oh, i’ll have to agree with that.” he says and there’s a blush on your cheeks as you playfully hit his chest, annoying voice telling him to stop it.

“i’ll assure you that probably every men in this room would want to have you in their bed instead of their wife.” he says staring right at you and this time you shift on doyoung’s hold. “myself included.”

you feel sick, the smile on your face hard to put on. you bite off the snarky remarks that are on the tip of your tongue and as you feel doyoung starting to talk you quickly excuse the both of you.

you lead him until you get to a more secluded area, stopping and staring at him. “whatever you were about to do.” you begin “it wasn’t worth risking the chance of doing business with him.”

he has the nerve of looking offended by your words. “what? like i would want to have anything to do with a man like that.”

you roll your eyes. “please, doyoung. we both know what’s important in this situation, the money.”

“your vision of me sure is pleasant, isn’t it?” he sounds like he had a bit too much to drink but you know for a fact he didn’t. you notice that he’s standing to close.

“you don’t give me much else to work it.” is your reply and you feel the blood starting to boil inside your veins, this is what you have been waiting for weeks. for him to pick another fight, to let it all out.

but he doesn’t, he just sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. you notice now that he looks tired. with dark circles around his eyes and shoulders slumped he looks almost fragile, vulnerable and you realize that since you have gotten married there was never a night that doyoung got home before 10 PM.

“______.” his voice sounds weak and when he opens his eyes to looks at you you see the hurt that never stays for too long. “i didn’t realize that there was something wrong. i don’t have time to wonder if i’ve made mistakes, i was raised to think rationally. the rational thing to do in my mind was to give you as much space as possible.”

you avoid his eyes, deciding that staring at the golden lamp on the wall was better. “i’m sorry, i should’ve noticed things more.” he says, hand moving to your cheek and he caresses it softly. you let him. “i want to be better for you.”

you should think that it sounds like a lie, but you don’t. you shouldn’t let him move your head so you’re facing him, but you do. when his lips touch yours you should move away, tell him that you don’t believe a word he says, but all you do is kiss him back.

it’s so sweet, the taste of champagne fresh on your lips and his lips moving against yours. you sigh, letting him deepen it. letting him move his hand down your body to hold you tight by the waist. his body coming closer to yours that all you can feel is him, all you can smell is his cologne and you can taste is his lips as he kisses you like you’re in love. like there’s more here than a contract that you both signed.

you heart feels like it will burst out of your chest and all the butterflies will escape at once and you won’t be in control anymore. a voice in your head screams no, all you have is control while the other begs you to let it go, begs you to be putty in his hand and believe every word he says.

it’s not that black and white but for now you let the butterflies chase after him as your lips chase for his.

later when you leave the party, drunk on expensive champagne and his taste, you let your hand rest on the leather seat of the mercedes while a jazz song plays. when he moves his hand to lay on top of yours, and his fingers interlace with yours, you let him.


End file.
